


What Happens At The Academy...

by Evalie_Soto (Missalyssasecret)



Category: Star Trek: Discovery
Genre: F/M, Friendship, Gen, Humor, Sharing a Bed
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-09
Updated: 2020-02-09
Packaged: 2021-02-27 23:21:41
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,019
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22623970
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Missalyssasecret/pseuds/Evalie_Soto
Summary: Pippa is far too awake, Kat is never T.A.-ing again, and Chris wants to know why he woke up wearing...that.The Academy friendship we all need and these three deserve.
Relationships: Katrina Cornwell & Christopher Pike, Katrina Cornwell/Original Universe Gabriel Lorca, Philippa Georgiou & Christopher Pike
Comments: 7
Kudos: 38





	What Happens At The Academy...

**Author's Note:**

> All three of these amazing characters don’t get a happily ever after, so I wanted to write them something light from the past.

The first thing Chris is aware of is just how _loudly_ his bedmate is breathing. It’s not quite nails on the chalkboard levels of bad, but it echoes in his head where the remains of his brain are still sloshing around from...whatever it was he ended up doing last night. All he can remember from the end-of-semester party is in snippets: drinking something dubiously purple, Kat holding court sitting on the bar and surrounded by a circle of adoring (and out of their league) admirers, Philippa’s ponytail bouncing as she tossed back another shot.

He’s not ready to open his eyes yet, but if he’s going to ever make the Command track, he should at least try to take an internal status report, liquefied grey matter notwithstanding.

All four limbs still attached, check.

In his bed (the scratchy blanket his Aunt Pamela sent is unmistakeable under his cheek), check.

Clothes, che- actually, hmmm. 

Chris is fairly certain he was wearing boxers last night, but they’ve somehow migrated to give him the worst wedgie in history. He manages to make his fingers work enough to untwist his underwear, but instead of cotton caught up in an elastic waistband, this feels...wrong. Narrow strips of fabric over his hips. A much too snug front barely containing the dangly bits. And a string most definitely- 

Oh.

A familiar giggle makes his eyes snap open. He’d almost forgotten the other body in the bed. It sounds female, at least by Earth terms, and he freezes as he tries to place it.

”Christopher,” a low, melodic voice pipes in too close to his ear, “who knew you looked so good in a thong?”

Pippa. Great.

Her amused face swims into view, eyeliner smudged across the bridge of her nose, hair out of its normal ponytail, and looking disproportionately non-hungover given the sheer amount of alcohol he’d watched her down. She’s wearing one of his shirts, bare legs and feet incongruously shoved between his calves.

”Fuck you, Pip,” he manages blearily, “what the hell did we do?”

”I won fifty credits off Lo Presti because they forgot the first five words in the preamble to the Federation charter,” her voice was deservedly smug, “Kat made out with that gorgeous bartender, Commander Sims took a swim in the fountain on Market Street, and-“

”Shut up, both of you,” another voice drifts up from the floor at the foot of the bed.

A hand grips the desk chair, hauling someone into view who looks as miserable as he feels. Kat’s still wearing her uniform pants, wrapped in the sheet off the bed and seems to be missing one earring.

”Lightweights,” Pippa snorts affectionately.

She hops off the bed cheerfully, humming. Chris holds on for dear life as the mattress shifts. He’s barely convinced his stomach to stay put when the bed rocks again, this time from Kat collapsing beside him. Her cold nose evokes a pitiful whine from him when she buries her face in his side.

”I’ll give you both an A if you never, ever make me drink that Barzan concoction again.”

”Empty promise,” Pippa calls from the direction of the tiny kitchenette, “we already scored one hundred on the final.”

There’s a swirl of water, then the nearly inaudible _click_ of the coffee maker starting. It’s an anachronism, but Chris swears the synthesizers never get it right.

”...it’s not even graded yet,” Kat mumbles.

”Pfffffft.”

Pippa sits on the edge of the bed and Chris groans in appreciation as cool fingers start massaging the ache out of his temples. 

“The Academy needs better security on its course servers,” she continues at a lower volume, “I was able to bypass it and access the rubric.”

”What-“

”After we took the final. I didn’t change anything, I promise.”

“Never should have agreed to T.A. for Advanced Battle Theory, Kat,” Chris points out, “you knew we’d be in it.”

He whimpers as Pippa stands and takes her magic fingers with her. She’s back less than a minute later, clearing space on the nightstand for three mugs of coffee. 

“I hate you both,” Kat moans into his ribs.

Chris accepts one of the steaming mugs, sipping gratefully. It’s all the same ingredients, but Pippa’s coffee somehow tastes better than anyone else’s. He nudges Kat with his hip, letting her prop herself up on his shoulder. Despite the teasing, Pippa’s smile is gentle as she hands her the second mug before downing her own in short order.

There’s silence as all three of them let the caffeine slowly work its way into circulation, Pippa’s probably four times as fast given the unholy speed she drinks. Chris could kiss her when she produces a detox hypo for them both. It hisses and the headache recedes to a dull throb behind his eyes, which gives him a chance to focus on the rest of his body.

Coincidentally, that includes the situation with his underwear. Kat and Pippa could care less if he sits around naked (one too many late night study sessions and he’s not going to ever live that down, thank you very much), but he’s more concerned with when it happened and if anyone else was involved.

”Ummm. Pip, you wanna tell me how I ended up like this?”

”Yeah, because Chris in butt floss is not what I want to see first thing in the morning.”

Pippa smirks.

”Perhaps you’d rather see Gabriel in one?” 

“I’ve changed my mind, I’m failing you.” 

Kat’s threat is clearly a cover for the blush rising from her throat. It’s also not a denial.

”In any case,” Pippa ignores the glare, “here.”

Chris blinks at the stack of credits she sweeps off the floor and sets on the bed. He’s rather grateful she didn’t drop them on his lap.

“Pips...?”

”Nothing to worry about. Finish your coffee, Christopher,” comes her smug reply.

”I’m the exact opposite of not worried right now.”

”I know.”

Chris does as he’s told and really hopes this won’t come back to bite him in the ass. Literally.

”I hate you.”

”No you don’t.”

_Reference photos_


End file.
